In Sight
by CyberII
Summary: MassKinkMeme fill, a sequel to my debut 'In Command'. Garrus/Miranda, with Shepard walking in on them. Rated for smut - as always.


_Author's note: a sequel to my debut 'In Command' (also posted here).  
Original MassKink prompt:  
Shepard didn't romance Miranda. Instead, they've become very close friends. And she's fine with that. In fact, she's busy enthusiastically screwing someone else in her office when Shepard walks in._

Bonus points:  
-They're doing it on her desk instead of her bed  
-Miranda or her partner are in the middle of an orgasm the minute Shepard walks in  
-Shepard is unexpectedley aroused by the sight

* * *

Shepard still didn't believe the suicide mission at the Collectors' base was over and it ran that smoothly. After Admiral Hackett was convinced to make the Alliance commandment to postpone the trial only for him to finish his mission concerning the Collectors, Shepard was pretty much sure his own gloomy mood could spread on the rest of the squad.

And get them killed.

Seemed like the squad've had their own opinion on that. Shepard was glad he chose those people; now when he fought hard his own desperation, they helped him to keep their morals high, like he helped each other of them. Their immovable faith in him kept him strong. Now it was time for him to thank them all. As a farewell.

Before he hands himself over to the Alliance.

It's going to be damn hard. Old friends, new friends. Old friend and a new love at the same time. He was pretty sure, Tali would carry on; with or without him, the quarians still had pretty much to fix up about their lives.

He wasn't sure about one person. Miranda. Officer Lawson, Cerberus Cheerleader. First he was repulsed by her attitude; it was a real surprise for him to discover an amazing person under that façade. Tragic somehow. He did his best to make her appreciate herself as a person, not a crafted thing; the words she said to The Illusive Man at the Collectors' base came out strong. But was she so sure what to do next with her life? Shepard felt somehow guilty for drawing her out of her ice shelter – she deserved better than she got, yet he couldn't give her anything except for his sincere friendship.

There was never a spark between them; they were too different. But they were really fine with being friends. She shared the news about her sister, he asked for some advice on women sometimes. She was irreplaceable on the battlefield; strong, skilled, dedicated. But he knew she was lonely; and there was nothing he could do about it.

Another thing that bothered him – something was going on between her and his most loyal old friend, Garrus. Maybe it was his fault to put them in the awkward position of sharing the position of second-in-command. They never started a fight openly, like Jack did – not that he expected it from someone that disciplined as Garrus. But he couldn't read their sudden glances, taunts, smirks, when he took them on a mission together – and he did it a lot. Some of them just seemed so far from usual amicable teasing conversations they all loved to participate in.

Part of him really wanted to resolve that tension between the people he united and befriended. A farewell party seemed like a good idea to accomplish it.

* * *

"..Miranda, I still think you're the one of a reasonable kind," The Illusive Man took a deep drag on his cigarette, watching his former operative on holo-screen. " You worked for me for too long, you are tied with Cerberus. These ties aren't that easy to break."

"You didn't get it on the first try? I can repeat my words if it helps," the dark-haired woman snapped, "Watch my lips: I told you to kiss my…"

"Remember what you did for Cerberus. Remember what Cerberus did for you. What you became as a result. What could Shepard do for you when he's one step from trial by court martial?"

"Shepard already did," she brushed him off coldly, "Thanks to him I finally figured out I'm a real person. Not a tool, but a woman. Now I can take care of myself!"

Her eyes darted somewhere off-screen – apparently someone entered her cabinet. The Illusive Man sighed.

"Miranda, burning all bridges isn't the clever decision at this time. You gained you reputation, starting from scratch won't work…"

A long arm appeared on screen, snaking around the woman's waist and turning her away from the monitor. Three-fingered gauntleted hand hit disconnect on the console. The last sight The Illusive Man caught was the shoulder armor of a turian bending down and pulling ex-operative Lawson closer…

He took a sip from his glass. Took another pull at the cigarette, somewhat disgusted. So, it wasn't just Shepard's influence, letting that turian live after a missile hit seemed like a bad idea now.

As if this whole project wasn't full of bad ideas…

* * *

Miranda found herself inexcusably enjoying the moment when a long tongue roughly licked off her lip gloss in one stroke. She let the turian steal this kiss, remembering only afterwards she was almost angry at him.

Almost.

After that passionate ride Vakarian gave her once the cold distance between them seemed to reappear. They never talked much except for a little words exchange during the missions they were taken together at.

Not that she was overdramatic about the whole 'hump-and-dump' kind of affairs; sometimes in the past she'd used her men the same way. Neither had she wanted to appear clingy after some casual sex. But every time she discovered Shepard's taking them both on a mission, every time she saw the tall gracious frame entering 'Kodiak' – her heart jumped. Not that she had a crush on him…

Well, maybe a little.

"What are you doing here?" she crossed her arms on her chest, trying hard to look at least a little disgruntled.

"Well, after we defeated the Collectors, the firing algorithms don't demand that high maintenance anymore," he flashed her a toothy smile.

"You know what I mean," Miranda frowned, "We barely talked since… then."

"Oh, my bad, I guess," Garrus stepped back with a concerned look, "All this rush, pressure, constant danger, suicide mission – and the fact I know nothing about human… customs didn't help. I thought it would be for the best not to let anyone notice."

He tilted his head: "Wait, did you think I'm the – how do you call it – 'hit-and-run' kind?"

Miranda pursed her lips. "I was dangerously close to that thought."

"Hey," he crouched in front of her, brushing her lips with the tip of his tongue; a smile crawled on her lips betraying her. Her heart fluttered, she leaned forward to leave a soft kiss on his mouth.

"Seems like I know your secret," he murmured with a smug grin, "You smile every time when I do it. Maybe I should tell it to the rest of the team who's having problems with your attitude?"

"No way, "she felt her cheeks blushing slightly, "That works only with you."

"Mmm, I love the way it sounds. Actually I wasn't hoping much… Look, I acted like nothing happened, but..," he sighed, looking at her with those intense blue eyes of his; the eyes she missed so much, "There, at the Collector's base… When you told The Illusive Man to kiss your perfect ass and count it as your resignation – I felt so proud that that woman gave herself to me once. And then I've just hoped I didn't screw up my chances with her yet."

"Your chances?" she raised a brow, "What chances are you talking about?"

He straightened up in a bat of an eye. "My apologies… Some interspecies misinterpretation, I guess… I better go."

"Wait," she launched herself out of her chair to catch him mid-stride. She felt his body straining and tensing – just like that time – when she wrapped her arms around his thin waist. "Don't. What's wrong, Garrus, you always were the first to join the teasing games… What happened now?"

"Oh," there was a slight relief in his voice and posture, "I… I don't know. Maybe I overthought it a bit – that whole thing… with you I mean."

"So now it's 'your turian complications'?" she taunted him, hiding her blush and sheepish smile in his armored back. Tell him, Miri, a small voice in the back of her head insisted. "I've been thinking of you too, Garrus. I was in the cockpit when Thanix tore the Collectors another asshole in one shot… It felt like you made that perfect shot yourself, no one else could've made it."

"So – no more calibration jokes?" he looked at her over his shoulder, took her small hand in his gauntleted three-fingered one. She slid in front of him, admiring his stark features, feeling his bright eyes travelling along her body.

"No more," she whispered with a strange cold shiver on her spine. "I guess this ends soon… As soon as the Alliance takes Shepard in their custody."

"Yeah", his gravelly voice was hardly louder than a breath, "And I must return to Palaven… Convince my people to take actions against the Reapers invasion. Not much hopes it's going to work though…"

"And I think I'll try to find a good use of the rest of Cerberus info I had access to." Miranda lowered her eyes. "Maybe that would help me find different people to work with…"

"Right. You might need it," she felt his gloved fingers touching her hair. He paused before speaking again. "There's no certainty we would ever meet again."

"Most probably. Our paths are so different," her fingers slid around his waist again, holding onto him, "Maybe it all was just about lot of stress and a handful of hormones…"

"If you want to leave it there," his soft voice turned cold and distant, "Don't worry - no problems will be on my part…"

Her lips trembled. Why did they start that mutual torture? It was obvious they couldn't… stay together; but was it so necessary to point it out that way?

"Shut up, Garrus" she breathed out, "Just shut up. I don't want to hear about it now…"

She reached up for his long neck, embracing it, pulling him down, standing on her tiptoes, capturing his mouthplates with her lips. The alien, yet so arousing hotness of his muscular tongue entered her mouth, her head started to spin and she clung onto the angles of his armor just hoping not to swoon right there.

She felt his hands moving gingerly on her back and closed her eyes. His tongue slid along her jaw to the spot behind her ear, so sensitive when exposed to this inhuman heat; it made her gasp, feeling the familiar electric spark between her legs.

"We have different paths, which have to diverge soon," she spoke in a small voice, tracing the scales on his neck, "But they hurled us together at some point. And I'm not going to waste the rest of time with you thinking of us parting. Not when you're still here."

His strong arms embraced her. Garrus sat on the edge of her desk, dipping his face into her dark hair.

"Humans are weird," he hummed finally, his breath tickling her scalp, "First you say the things you don't want to feel or believe out loud, then – something contradicting your previous track of thoughts, and finally you do something utterly irrelevant. What am I supposed to do – completely ignore what your mouth says and study your body language better?"

"Look who's talking," she narrowed her eyes playfully, "Turians are so withdrawn I doubt I could ever drag anything out of you without help of a space hauler."

"I'm not, ah, confusing anyone with misleading statements, just tend to prepare to the worst outcome," he nuzzled her ear, "Besides, suicide missions aren't the best time for romance. However, considering my life style, it's probably the best chance I ever get. Even if the Reapers threat becomes history, I can't think of myself settling down to some mundane work and stable relationship… I'm not a very good turian, I think."

"You can never tell," Miranda gave him a reassuring smile, "Also, you're not a stereotypical turian. That makes you the best turian I've ever met, keeping in mind most of the turians I've met were stuck-up assholes."

"Hey, that bunch of stuck-up assholes still are my people, have some respect," he laughed heartily, the light flanging sounded so relaxed and relaxing. It was hard not to love his voice; she wondered how it would sound outside of the translator. The real voice of Archangel… damn, it sounded sexy already.

"Now, when our mission is complete I feel sorry for all the time I was too busy being a bitch," she looked into his radiant eyes; he smirked with a small jerk of mandibles, "I'd love to know you better, maybe I could use that time to try. Shepard won't call you his best friend for nothing."

"Well, I wasn't the friendliest person most of the time either, especially towards Cerberus," the turian tilted his head, "I guess there's my fault too."

She slid the tips of her fingers under his heavy armor, "Can you take it off? I want to feel you in my arms, not your chestplate."

"Mmm, only if you're fully aware of possible consequences," he purred with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "Of, you know, undressing and, ah, touching an adult turian man who'd been through a lot of stress recently and not enough ways to, ah, blow off steam…"

"The way you say it makes me want to deal with the consequences like never before," she traced the sharp edges of his armor. He took her hand and guided it to the clasps.

"Here… And here… Aaand here…"

"Now I will know how to undress a turian," Miranda snickered when he lifted the cowl piece from his shoulders.

"Not really. The most obstructive part is still on," He looked down at her, icy-blue eyes filled with cockiness. "You think you'll need these skills in the future?"

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his warm taut body, feeling the rough plates beneath the underarmor suit.

"I highly hope so."

She felt him exhale sharply, his heartbeat so heavy underneath his plating.

"I'd love to know you too. Sex with you was so… different and exotic. And I've never had a human fetish, nor even considered inter-species affair before."

"You seemed pretty confident about what you were doing," she nudged him.

"Ah, I don't know… Just like you said, stress, hormones, instinct kicked in response to your arousal. I've never though the biology works this way… between species. I mean, it shouldn't… But at least your species use the same 'insert tab A into slot B' scheme for mating," Garrus made an uncertain shoulder gesture, probably something similar to a shrug. "Maybe I was restraining myself too hard. After the anger burst out, the rest just came out like a snowball…"

"Mmm, that means I took your cross-species virginity?" the woman shot him a flirtatious glance. He chuckled smugly.

"As well as I took yours."

"Hm, it was damn good for sex between two virgins," she let her palm caress his broad chest, all sharp angles of plating. "You are a fantastic… lover, Vakarian."

She almost tripped over that word – what they did, it had nothing to do with love.

"Yeah, uhm, thanks. And I've learned that you humans use more than just 'slot B' for 'tab A'. That was… groundbreaking," his eyes turned dreamy, apparently reminiscent.

Miranda giggled, noticing his beatific toothy smile. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against the plates on his chest in a catlike motion, swaying her hips slowly – her palm slid under his ribcage on his flat stomach, rubbing it, trying to get lower under his codpiece of armor.

"It looks like someone wants to get some more of 'alternative slots treatment'," she teased him.

He bent slightly down to look her straight in the eye.

"Oh, Miri, what are you doing to a poor turian guy stuck on a vessel with no females of his own species?" he all but groaned, his eyes lighting up with a new intensity.

Next moment their mouths met again; she didn't realize who the first one to lean closer was, yet it didn't matter anymore. Much to her surprise she felt his hands landing on her buttocks, grabbing them to press their bodies tighter. She moaned into his mouth, her mind going hazy as she gave into his intoxicating alien kiss.

His grip on her ass hardened, he lifted her from the ground to the same level with his height. She squeezed his waist with her legs, knees placed on her desk behind his back.

"Making sure no female of his species steals that gorgeous guy," she murmured, kissing him again quickly and then turning his head to the side for her lips to caress his tender spot underneath the jaw. She felt him open up his vulnerable throat for her by throwing his head back and to the right, lifting his chin to provide a better access.

"It's not fair," there was unmistakable smug lilt in his duotone voice, "And selfish of you…"

"Of course it is not fair," Miranda flicked her tongue between the scales on his suede skin, "I'm perfect, and they're way out of my league. And since I'm perfect, I have my right to choose the best."

* * *

It was so much easier to think it all was just about stress, tension and lust. At least that was familiar for Garrus. Most of his intimate encounters with women were about it. Some were more than one-nighters, but stayed within the confines of casualness, comfortable for both. It had been always spoken clearly by vocal subtext; if both sides found it agreeable – they have no misunderstandings.

But that was with turian women he spoke the same language with.

And now he was confused. This human woman kept giving him mixed messages, and the flat translation of her voice couldn't give him a mere hint of her emotions or intentions. Garrus learned humans were very unclear about what's on their mind; and not only when they lied intentionally. It was their muddle-headed way of thinking; their emotions could betray them sometimes, seeping out, but they weren't sure about most of the things most of the time. Especially concerning relationships of all kind.

And what was even worse – she obviously didn't understand him completely. He knew the translators cut most over- and undertones of turian language for the convenience; and now he felt helpless as if he suddenly turned mute.

Garrus wondered how many things he voiced were cut off, so Miranda told it's impossible to drag something out of him…

But still she was with him, touching him in such gentle and exquisite way no turian woman ever did if only could. At least she wanted him for sex, it was stated pretty clear. And it was fine with him.

It also petted his ego that, taking account of her perfection, arrogance and sexual inventiveness, she was pretty easy to impress. Was it her unlucky with men, or human men being no match to turian – she just called him 'the best'. He was perfectly fine with it as well.

He closed his eyes, pressing her soft alien body to his chest, yet she didn't seem to mind their differences. On the contrary, she clung to him even tighter, leaving cool but so delicate touches of her mouth on his neck. Turian sex wasn't necessarily that rough as stereotypically believed – sure, if both partners wanted it brutal and wild, their specific traits allowed them to go far beyond the other species' definition of 'rough'. At the same time, with their metal-armored bodies, razor-sharp teeth and lethal talons they had to learn to be extra careful around their few sensitive areas. Otherwise any intercourse could end up with one or both partners bleeding to death. No race with such probability would exist long enough.

Garrus smirked inwardly on the thought of absurdity of popular misbelieves. Speaking of teeth.

"Deal. You do this, ah, amazing thing with your mouth, and I'll show you… something we hadn't time to try yet."

The woman snickered, looking at him with a mischievous twinkle.

"Oh, Vakarian, you could make a blowjob request sound alien. Yet intriguing…"

"I should remember how it's called," he rubbed his cheekplate against her, smelling the pheromones emanating from her fair skin. He should ask Mordin somehow, how the pheromones of levoamino-based species could affect dextro, as well as vice versa. On the other hand the nosey salarian won't spare him a lecture which would probably sound horribly clinical.

"So you think you're going to need this in the future?" Miranda laughed. He felt like he just heard something in her voice, hiding behind the bitterness – something that sounded like… hope? He wasn't sure though, human speech tones were entirely different, and he was no expert.

"Expecting the worst has its advantages. There's always a slight chance of pleasant surprises," he tried to match her tone.

She smiled and brought her face that close to his he thought she's going to do that mouth-on-mouth tongue-probing thing called 'kiss' again. Humans enjoyed it so much in many variations, but they've got soft and obviously sensitive – in an erogenous way - flesh framing their jaws. An asari or even drell would be more suitable for this gesture than him, but he was pretty sure it would be tactless to suggest out loud.

The part of a 'kiss' which required a tongue was easier for him to be actively involved, and she seemed to even like his efforts. His tongue was way longer, stronger and more agile than her strange and flat one. She was making small moans when he explored the soft and wet cavity of her mouth. Minus small blunt teeth and tongue, it felt almost like…

Oh, Spirits, that thought just went somewhere horrible. And just to think they use it the same way…

Oh… That was a mental image he'd prefer to never get.

Spirits, he'll never be able to look at humans the same way as before. Now something had to be done before his imagination terrifies him completely or makes him laugh his fringe off. He doubted either outcome would be good for what they initially were up to.

"You – armor off. Now. I'll tweak the climate control," he was glad to hear Miranda's playful order; even much more to obey. He lowered her on her feet and let her go, unclasping his armor with alarming speed, not taking his eyes off her swaying curvy hips. Pads on her back, pads on her chest – what is it all about, do human women fall a lot?

Come on, he said to himself, last time you succeeded in dealing with alien weirdness. Think asari, everyone likes asari, even your people. Quarians – their females have such curves too. No need to pinpoint attention upon it.

Garrus took a deep breath, unzipped his underarmor, feeling the cool air seeping between the plates. The temperature will rise soon, he reminded himself, but now the uncomfortable shivers ran along his torso. He stretched his shoulders and spine, freed from his usual armor, heard few joints cracking. He sighed with satisfaction, rubbing the back of his neck.

He stepped closer to Miranda and embraced her, digging his nose in her hair. That 'hair' thing the humans had – that was the easiest for him to get used to. It was soft but not fleshy soft, more like threads of a fabric. And it smelled good.

"Make me forget we're different," he whispered pleadingly, slowly dragging his tongue behind her ear.

She took his face into her palms. Her smile, it really amazed him how it could remain one of a wise and experienced woman and be enthrallingly daredevil at the same time.

"Don't worry," she replied quietly, "It's not just your issue, and not only have you wanted it to disappear."

Her eyes travelled lower to his plated groin. She pouted jokingly.

"What, you don't want me?"

"I do… Just a little… making out, and I'll be at your service in no time," he licked her neck.

"Fine with me, I'll have a chance to know your body better," he shot him a fiery glance and let her palm slide down his abdomen to the place where his plates were about to shift. "Mmm, it's a hot spot in here…"

She pushed him to sit down on the edge of her desk; he obeyed, when she kneeled between his legs. Her small fingers explored the seams of his plating down there; she bit her lower lip, soft blue eyes gleaming with curiosity, threw a glance at his face and returned to his crotch. He felt his blood rushing to the same place.

His plates shifted slightly, showing thin connective tissue stretching in the places where they matched each other's edges while lying down. Miranda's smile was triumphant; she leaned closer to run the tip of her tongue along the widening slit and tender junction points. He gasped, straightening his back; bony fingers clung to the top of the desk. Her wet mouth covered the opening between his plates; short tongue teased the head of his cock showing in it. Oh, it dawned on him. She was making him emerge straight in her mouth…

Garrus strained every nerve to not spring out of his plates too fast. Sliding inside that slightly cool but delightful cavern of her mouth seemed to last forever, the stimulation of her lips and tongue arousing him even more, luring him out. Blood pumped between his ears and to his groin, making his member swell and harden. His mandibles trembled with restraint and agitation, breath growing sharp. Soft and wet insides of human oral cavity rubbing his most sensitive part so gently drove him wild; he fought an urge to just plunge into her – no matter the orifice.

Less than a half of his shaft fit in her mouth now; he knew she's got a mind-blowing trick up her sleeve… uh, more like 'down her throat', to deal with his length. But he totally was with her on that one, they had no need to rush, and that tender and sweet start was more than welcomed. Her tongue swirled around his head when she let him out, squeezing his base with so many thin cautious fingers, leaving soft kisses on his tip. His heavy breath turned into a slight moan when she lowered her head, trailing the sensitive underside of his cock with her tongue and then returned to the edges of his parted plates.

After all he'd been through, it felt… divine. Even better than the first time when he was so stunned by Miranda's performance he couldn't remember his own name if asked. Now she wasn't just showing him what she's capable of – now her actions felt so… loving. The touch of her small flat tongue was unusual, yet desired. He sensed the tip of her skilled tongue tracing the texture of his member, every vein, bump and ridge; she licked it up and down, her moist lips added small suction sensations along his length. He shivered, this time not of cold but of pleasure. Low reverberating undertones of impatience and incitement filled his throat.

She leaned forward, taking him in her mouth once again. She rocked back and forth rhythmically, teasing him with her tongue rubbing against his stiff member. Garrus stared down, not able to withdraw eyes from his own length sliding in and out of her luscious lips. His body, used to be so tense all the time under stressful circumstances, eased off finally, letting the waves of delight rise from the spot of their concentration where her mouth met his cock. He let himself dig his fingers into her hair lightly – that gesture felt so natural even if he hadn't observe it in kinky extranet vids he 'borrowed' from Joker.

Funny, most of the vids Joker sent him featured buxom long-haired brunettes. Those probably were the criteria for sexiness of human women; Miranda should've been calling attention to her perfection for a reason. And he must've admitted she looked better than any of those actresses, so natural, genuine, so real. When she raised her eyes to look at him, he couldn't help but return that warmth of her gaze, emphasizing it with a faint tone of affection under his breath. Even if she didn't understand it, he felt like she deserved it. 'She's so gorgeous, better than any porn star, what are you waiting for,' his masculine pride chipped in. Take her, claim her for yourself, where would you find another woman like this. Whole Galaxy is about to come crashing down; and it's a damn lonely Galaxy for you anyway…

He gritted his teeth, almost biting on his tongue carelessly, and tried to brush off the inappropriate thoughts. It was hard, with his cock in her mouth. But… he had no rights to have her… Maybe just for a few blissful hours of them enjoying these sensual explorations…

He will cherish his memories of these hours.

Miranda let him slide deeper gradually, the tip of his shaft now pressed to the back of her throat every time she bowed her head forward. He was pretty sure he knew where it was going. As much as he felt lightheaded, enjoying her actions, it wasn't the point when he wanted to get his release first.

"Miri…"

It took a lot of effort for him to stop her. He cupped her cheek with his rough fingers, knowing they shake, giving him out. She released his member out of her mouth, still caressing it with her palm, kissed the tip gently, looked up at him with worrying eyes.

"Something wrong, Garrus?"

He smiled as sincerely as he could, keeping in mind his smile differs from human's.

"No, it's wonderful. But it's my turn now."

A soft smile appeared on her face too. She gave the head of his cock a demonstrative lick; shivers ran along his body.

"And what if I wanted to taste you again, coming in my mouth?"

He took her hand, pulling her up against his chest. Her ample breasts pressed to his plating, changing shape – his glance dropped in the depth between them. He let his hand slide on one of these mounds to feel its alien weight and fullness.

"There's no rush anymore. We'll take our time to do… anything we want."

Her smile widened, eyes sparkling. She winked playfully, stroking his hipbone. Spirits, he really loved when she touched him in all different ways. It was worth of trying it with a human…

"Oh, I recall you mentioned your stamina…"

He grinned, mandibles flaring.

"Riiight. And I'm in a perfect place… with a _perfect_ company… to exert it."

Garrus took a quick look around, but nothing suited his intentions better than her desk behind his back. He spun around, still holding the woman close. With one swift hand motion he swept the datapads and books aside and placed Miranda on her desk, devouring her with his eyes.

* * *

Damn, she'd discard any human male for this hungry gaze of a turian. Was it about his eyes, intense, bright, getting under her skin or about his surprisingly attractive in a weird way body? Or her being tired of human males' attention?

She didn't want to think of him that way, as if he's just an exotic fling, an amazing fuck-buddy to satisfy her thrill-seeking urges. She shivered every time she caught a glimpse of his saw-like teeth or looked at his talons on her bare skin, but it was the exciting kind of shiver she'd exchange all her former lovers for…

Maybe she discovered a turian fetish in herself. But it was him who made her see a man in him, not an alien, not a toy, not a pure entertainment.

She slid her palms along her body, making sure to accentuate every perfect line of it; he followed with his burning eyes.

"You want me to take this off?" she bit her lower lip seductively, tugging on her Cerberus uniform.

"No," he breathed out, pushing her on her back. His talons traced her curves and then dug into the stretchy white fabric, shredding it. He encircled her waist with one arm, lifting her up, ripping the suit completely off of her with another.

"What do you think you're doing!?" she yelped as soon as he lowered her back on the desk. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his rough dominant actions – right on the opposite she found herself getting so turned on by it she'd ride him without any foreplay.

"I never liked this one," he grinned with an overpowering hunger in his eyes, "It makes your ass look huge."

She failed to keep a straight face.

"Is it something the turian women hate to hear as much as the human ones or someone did his homework on humans?"

"Which answer do you like more?" Garrus leered, showing his pointed teeth. Oh, she never suggested the sight of those dangerous teeth could be alluring.

Now he was all above her, getting rid of her underwear in a similar way; and she couldn't simply be angry at him as long as she arched towards his lethal talons, rough plates, sharp teeth. As long as he made love to her, caressed her with rough flicks of his incredible long and agile tongue, as long as his bony fingers cupped her breasts, and they fit in as if were made for them…

His tongue went all the way down her torso, leaving a hot damp trail between her breasts, around her navel and settled between her legs. She gasped when that incredible hotness brushed against her aching clit, and sure as hell he noticed that. He lapped on her moist flesh, exploring her lower anatomy with a closer look. The strokes of his tongue varying from slow and tentative to rough and fast were driving her insane. That muscular organ wiggling around her lower lips and inner thighs – she couldn't dream of such stimulation.

The narrow tip of his tongue circled her clit and slid lower to prod her entrance, his fingerpad landing on her sensitive nub of flesh between the folds. She swore she was already dripping, she felt his tongue tasting her juices…

He threw her legs on his shoulders, arms crossed behind her back.

"Hold on," Miranda heard his soft purring voice.

It was… another impressive demonstration of a masterpiece of a turian body… He straightened up, with her sitting on his shoulders in a manner of an erotic totem pole. She almost forgot how to breathe – because of sudden immense height she was lifted to, because of her thighs spread wide by his cowl, giving him the perfect access to her private parts, because of his tongue still down there. She braced herself against the wall even though his arms held her upper body firmly – she just needed something to hold onto…

And then his tongue entered her pussy.

She bucked her hips, trying to maintain the balance, squealed out something inarticulate feeling that inhuman heat crawling up her vagina. Her eyes froze wide-open when she felt his tongue reached for her uterus, and its rough texture rubbed her inner walls in an amazing way which guided her closer to the peak.

Oh, God. Spirits. Whatever.

She grabbed his fringe with one hand, rubbing it, driving him into her core. The sparks ran from the apex of her legs, she couldn't remember what she was crying out loud when Garrus drove her to the most fantastic orgasm ever…

The blinding white light faded away, and her lover bent down gently, letting her rest her back on the desk.

"Oh, Garrus… I'll start to pray to your Spirits, because our God has no idea what happens when there's a turian involved…"

He looked at her with that overconfident stare she loved the most. She rubbed his neck, still sprawled on her own desk.

"Come on, I need you… my Archangel. I need you inside of me. Just fill me with your cock… the most amazing cock I've ever met."

He turned her over, rubbed her buttocks with his rough fingers. And then he slid in her, as far as her stretching flesh could allow him to. Miranda almost cried when his huge cock reached her inner wall and slammed into it…

* * *

Much to his surprise, Shepard found the Main Battery empty. It was weird, to see this place without Garrus calibrating. Shepard rubbed his eyes, still hoping the familiar turian form appears, then turned back hesitantly.

He walked across the mess hall, and then a thought crossed his mind. Gardner. Right, there was no way Vakarian left his workplace unnoticed by Gardner.

"Rupert, have you seen Garrus?" Shepard asked, turning to the bald man.

"Yes, Commander," Gardner pointed his thumb behind his back, "Gunnery Officer Vakarian is in Executive Officer Lawson's cabinet."

"Fine," Shepard nodded, "I needed to talk to both of them anyway…"

"I'm sure he's still there. No one leaved the cabinet since he walked in about an hour ago," Mess Sergeant rubbed his neck. "Must be some serious talk they're having…"

And there Shepard's premonition of disaster was back…

It only grew stronger when he discovered the lock on his XO's door was orange. That was strange, Miranda never locked her office. He approached to the door only to…

The high-pitch screams from behind the door couldn't belong to anyone but Miranda; and low flanging growl was too familiar as well. Something was going on inside, hastily Shepard powered on his omnitool, it took him few seconds to recall a trick Tali taught him…

The lock was overridden, and Shepard darted into the room.

"Miranda, is everything…"

He cut off mid-sentence as he tripped over a piece of armor. Hot wave of air made him think of climate control glitch, but the scene that greeted him was hotter…

Miranda was lying on her desk, black waterfall of long silky hair cascaded over the edge, contrasting her pale skin – she was stark naked except for her boots. Her high boots, soles to the ceiling, were thrown on silvery-plated shoulders of a turian relentlessly pounding into her. Garrus was no less naked; his bony taloned fingers were squeezing her ample breasts, bouncing heavily with each powerful thrust; long bluish tongue lapping at woman's skin like she was the delicious sort of ice-cream and he didn't want to waste a single drop of it.

And her cries, gasps and sobs indicated she's wild over it.

"…Ah, yes, Garrus, oh, please, oh, God, yes, more, ah, ah, I'm… Garrus!"

Her back arched off the desk, her whole body shaking, the spiky frame above her bent lower, dipping his head into her shoulder. With few more slams into her writhing body he reached his own peak, convulsing with a multitone growling moan, muffled by her neck…

Shepard forgot he froze on a spot round-eyed and slack-jawed. The two entwined shuddering bodies in front of him – it was like an unexpected Fornax pop-up in the Extranet. Or sneaking up on Joker. And he never felt any interest in 'turian-on-human' porn, so the stark contrast of curvy, porcelain-skinned woman and angular, metallic-plated alien caught him unprepared. To his embarrassment he felt an erection straining his uniform pants…

A hasty retreat would be the best option; but a pair of piercing blue eyes met his already and amazingly calm purring voice spoke.

"Shepard. Didn't anyone teach you to knock? We're trying to have some privacy here."

The turian straightened up to his full height lazily. Shepard tried to fold his hands in front of his groin as natural as he only could, feeling a pinprick to his male ego at the size of shaft drawn out of his perfect XO.

"I, uh… wanted to talk."

Garrus fished under the desk and picked up his underarmor jacket to drape over Miranda's bare shoulders. She slid from the desk into her chair, brushing disheveled hair off her face; the turian took place behind her chair, his hands resting on its back.

"Could it wait for a bit? Mind you, we were in the middle of…"

"Calibrations?" Shepard felt the dumbest smile plastered on his face. Now he noticed Miranda's document cases, datapads and books, always so neatly placed in order, and now scattered on the desk and around the floor. The pattern of blue heavy armor pieces across the room looked like they were torn off of the wearer by an explosion. And white shreds must've been the remains of Cerberus uniform… Damn, things were really hot between these two.

Miranda snickered, Garrus rolled his eyes.

"I still don't find your 'calibrations jokes' funny, Shepard."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It was least expected, to, uhm, discover Miranda helps you… polishing your rifle." Shepard found it hard to take his eyes off of her perfect skin, still covered in sweat, shimmering in the lamp light… Her barely covered breasts raised heavily with still uneven breath; and the seductive way her reddened swollen lips parted made him think what if he took his chance with her… What if she had that inviting look of soft blue eyes for him… What if she screamed his name pinned down by him…

"You must be a good shot then," he barely found something to hide his embarrassment and lack of words. "You know, for Miss Perfect to take it lying down…" Not that it sounded good at all…

"Well thank you, I'm always a perfect shot," the way Vakarian emphasized the last words smugly made them sound like a duotone purring. "Since you interrupted us – care to tell what you wanted us for?"

Shepard was almost sure – it was the possessive kind of 'us'. The 'go look at some other woman' kind of 'us'. Lazy glance of the turian certainly didn't miss him eyeing Miranda.

"Well… I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Since, erm, you two are, well… getting along better than I feared. So, ah, see you when we dock on Omega. A small calibra… celebration party."

Shepard edged off the door nervously. Oh, if he only could skip the mess hall without this walk of shame with a hard-on… He regretted he saved whole Cerberus crew for the first time, because he felt like whole ship is staring.

He flew in the elevator and slammed the Captain's Quarters button. Maybe he could ask Tali to join him via intercom. Maybe not, it would be a horrible idea to explain her this entire confusing story…

* * *

Miranda looked up on Garrus and giggled awkwardly.

"So, let's sum this up," the turian clicked his talons on the back of her chair, "We made our point perfectly clear in front of The Illusive Man and now Shepard. Maybe next we should try doing it in the CIC just to make sure everyone noticed?"

"You don't want it, not really," she chuckled, "Because Kelly certainly would be up to join."

"Hah, point taken," he laughed, "Besides, have you noticed Shepard's face?"

"Have you noticed his tent?! I think it counts for an approval of us being hotter than hell."

"Mmm-hm," Garrus hummed, talons' clicking growing harsher, "If he keeps looking at you this way, friends or not, we'll have a talk…"

Miranda spun around in her chair, throwing a surprised glance up on him – eyes narrowed, mandibles tight to his chin.

"Someone's jealous?" she put her arms around his waist, "Vakarian, he spent two years sprawled on the surgical table in front of me. When you rebuild someone by cells in a Lego-like manner, it's hard to avoid the clinical approach towards him."

"Also," she smiled kinkily, "I know the exact size in this tent. And I settle for nothing but the best…"


End file.
